


One Night's Peaceful Rest

by Morgyn Leri (morgynleri)



Series: No Shield For My Soul [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, GFY, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgynleri/pseuds/Morgyn%20Leri
Summary: When he arrives in Rivendell, Boromir cannot trust the peace well enough to sleep. It doesn't go unnoticed.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lferion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lferion/gifts).



> I hope that this works for you, and that you enjoy it, Lferion!

The first night, even exhaustion doesn't let him sleep, in this place that straddles the line between bower and garden, tossing and turning and waking with every unfamiliar creak and call. There is little need to talk the next day, at least, save to share what had brought him north, the dreaming vision he had shared with his brother and father. No answers given to him, nothing but counsel to wait, and to listen to the others who have come at the call of Lord Elrond.

Dinner brings expectations he had wished to leave behind in Gondor, even if he had not truly dared to hope he could. Dressed in what finery he has, a diplomatic mask of a smile and light conversation that he can barely maintain. It is almost worse than at home, for there, no one expects that he should be merry when his duties are grim, and the shadows reach hungry fingers from Mordor's slopes. No matter how glib and cheerful those who remain safe behind the walls, they still understand how greatly he struggles to keep them so.

It is a relief when the elven harps fall silent, and their lilting pipes with them, though this is not a hall that remains bereft of music long. It isn't elven music that begins, but a steady thump of a drum and the deep hum of dwarves.

Boromir feels some of the tension seep out of his shoulders, his smile widening a little at what had been a familiar sound for three years of his youth. Sent north to learn some finer points of diplomacy at the embassy Gondor kept in Erebor, as his father had when first they had reforged withered ties to the North.

The singer's voice is a bright and familiar tenor, and Boromir blinks in surprise. He had not thought Tíli would be here, when he has already seen Thorin and Kíli alike at another of the tables, and it is a risky journey to bring so many of the royal family on. Not as great a risk as years past, perhaps, but dangerous enough.

After dinner, he goes looking for the dwarves, finding them encamped in one of the more isolated – and defensible – parts of Lord Elrond's sprawling home. A deep pocket of the valley, reached only by a long walk from the mouth of this ravine, or precarious descent of spiralling stairs from the rooms perched at the top of the cliff.

It is a relief to be challenged before he reaches the main courtyard for this part of Rivendell, to have to ask permission to pass the guard and to wait for welcome to be sent out from Thorin. He knows the valley is guarded, and well, but it is not done in a way that is familiar to him.

He doesn't sleep until late that night, but he sleeps well for the first time since he left the familiar lands of the south, trusting those that keep watch to keep him safe.


End file.
